


[Panwink] Vomit

by fanfictioning



Series: Grey Sky Universe [1]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 04:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictioning/pseuds/fanfictioning
Summary: Please, do not read this series.Instead, go to Wanna One Universe (https://archiveofourown.org/series/825354)Thank you.***20XX, everything is fine.Except lack of the ink to write.Cannot find a bottle, even if you could.Dare to write, when the sensor is always watching.I vomit.***This is the Alternative Universe - Future Urban Fantasy.It's Omnibus.It is very, very dark, gloomy and gory.Kinda like Bland Runner-thingy.Please be warned beforehand, the usual Pan-Wink personality is not used in this series.If you want the usual sweet-lovey-dovey Panwink. Please do not read this series.This series is very explicit in its expression of depression and madness.





	[Panwink] Vomit

Vomit

a.

I'm afrad to shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Last pill is not working, I told you broker was kinda shady.

Shit, shit, shit.

I climbed across the wall to the hole.

Is it okay to shit? It's been awhile since I've done it.

It will be okay.

I prayed and shat.

b.

If you do something daily, it's whether it's essential or you don't care.

Waking up is something of both, body needs it; I don't care.

But do you care enough to not wake up?

See?

Insta-waved something yesterday and stuffed it down the throat.

Stomache can chew it itself, I don't care.

Should I?

The hole comes with televisio, it emits something and shows something.

Something, nothing, everything and then, nothing.

Wish I'd care enough to throw it down the street.

No, it's part of the hole, you can't.

Neither you care enough.

Care enough.

c.

I climbed down the stairs to the ghetto.

Array of bodies and stuffs, across it I walk.

'What goez it?'

This is Lin. He's just Lin. Just Lin.

I sat down across his checkerboard and just sat.

'Some fags?'

I gently declined his stick of fire, he lighted one up and chewed it.

Tobacco used to be something called brand and product.

It is now a religion and sacred ration, you get'em for free.

Natural progression, brand, ideology to religion.

What is ideology if not cool enough to be religion.

Everything ends with a belief, or disbelief which is believing dissing it.

Shit.

I don't need to shit.

Maybe I need to light one up.

'Some booze?'

I gently declined his bottle of nectar, he swigged one up and chewed it.

Lin put one of his pawn across the board.

'So, youv'een shitting okay?'

It's hard to, but harder not to.

Sometimes I pray, mostly distracted enough not to care.

It makes me sick, but not dead. Not dead enough to live, which is worse.

I exhaled and looked up to the sky, or what used to be one.

Images, sounds and smells.

Web 7.0 is holo-banner-ad.

Some bandit-kids come nag Lin to give'em some sticks and nectar.

Do they know what sky used to be like?

Without images, sounds and smells?

Without sensory overload?

'Oh, you naive thing. They be okay. They fine. You? You not fine.'

People forget easily, themselves and things.

Those who remember, suffer

I grumbled to Lin the last broker must have been shady.

The pill's not working, I kinda care to be sure.

I'm afraid to shit.

'Do not fear, not fear. Time comes when time comes. No bother fear.'

Lin, Lin. Wish I were more like something like you.

My stomache haven't been functioning since the Nuovo-Sewage-Sensor.

Who knows baddies flush down their stuff? The Office says.

Another private contract to the altar, I starve.

Sometimes I want to throw the televisio off my wall, Lin.

'Poor thing, poor thing. May the Godot bless you strong.'

Thanks, Lin Thanks.

You're the only good enough to be sane.

In such insanity.

I climbed down to my hole.

d.

My stomache have been messy.

It needs to speak.

I glanced to the place I stashed illegal notebook and pen.

No, you mustn't.

Good boys don't write. Good boys don't write.

When they write. They praise the Office.

When they write. They pray to Office.

Mandatory nursery rhymes sang to my chips.

I don't need this, I don't want it.

I care enough to not want to listen.

You are such an addict, no wonder you can't function well.

Ah,

screw it.

I started writing.

Write, write, write.

Write, some more.

Not for the Office nor the Holiness.

Write, write, write.

Write some more.

Scribbled wrinkled yellow paper black.

Ah,

done it again.

Why did I do it?

Why keep doing it?

Why can't I be just right?

You are such a,

baddie.

e.

Daily Prayer sung through the radio, Praise the Office.

Once I've had my hit, it is cleaning up the mess.

You can't burn it, the Sensor knows it.

You can't stash it, the Inspector finds it.

You can't throw it away, the Camera sees it.

Only way is to flush it down the toilet, which is used to be fine.

But the new Sensory Board has installed another sensor down there.

The story over the net says, you cut the stuff down to words.

If Incorret Words are used, cut'em to letters, even.

Then cut some Correct Manual to words and letters.

Mix'em well and flush them whenver you shit.

My delicate stomache is only thing coward.

I'm afriad to shit.

f.

Sometimes, I don't want to shit.

I just want to show it to Lin, to Daily Inspector even.

Screw the Sensor tags it, the Peacer peace it.

I'd be hanged, but my stomache will at last be fine.

Dead, but free.

What a useless.

g.

I woke up again.

The televisio is busy as usual.

The usual, usual and the

'Today's hang list is; Maria, John and Lin.'

Oh.

Uh.

Huh

?

?

Um.

Ha.

Hah

Haha.

He.

Hehe.

Hi.

Ah.

No.

Nononononononononononononononononononononono.

Ah, I'm so useless.

The Daily Office drones on, these ildesirables are undesirables.

Ah, I need to talk, need to speak, need to write and scream.

Scream.

I vomited.

g.

I woke up again.

The television is busy as usual.

I looked across the hole and saw vomit.

Care enough to wipe?

Nah.

 

 

 

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> ***
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All characters and events in this fiction--even those based on real people--are entirely fictional.
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
> Hello, this is Jamie.
> 
> Comment and kudos, if you like.
> 
> Thank you.


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